


Adonis Barista

by Star55



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-08
Updated: 2013-10-08
Packaged: 2017-12-28 21:17:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/996802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Star55/pseuds/Star55
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are good days and bad days. Sometimes the bad days turn to the worst and then somehow turn a little better. Especially if an Adonis Barista is the one serving at the little cafe that Zayn has just stepped into.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Adonis Barista

**Author's Note:**

  * For [desiredeffect](https://archiveofourown.org/users/desiredeffect/gifts).



> Again, this one is for Rosey, because she wanted Zayn/Liam coffee shop AU. Probably not what she was expecting but what can you do? 
> 
> Disclaimer: Not mine. I just have a vivid and healthy imagination.

Today was not a good day. 

The alarm clock on Zayn’s phone didn’t go off, he had no cigarettes left, he had no instant coffee left (even though the stuff tasted rancid, it did in a pinch) and he had woken up with the most persistent boner that had left him more grumpy than satisfied after a wank in the shower. The water had ran cold and the pipes had rattled so hard when he shut the taps off that Zayn thought they were going to burst through the walls. 

His favourite pair of skinny jeans had ripped right up the crotch and the only socks he could find were filled with holes. 

Zayn had made it out of the door with seconds to spare and he’s pretty sure he saw a mouse skittering across the floor boards as he shut his door. He couldn’t deal with it then, though. He needed to get to work before he was fired for being late for the third day that week. 

It was only Wednesday.

The moment Zayn stepped out of his apartment building, it started to rain. Of fucking _course_.

He hiked his leather jacket up over his head and shuffled as quickly as he could to the bus stop. He ran a hand through his sopping wet hair and frowned at the world in general. 

The shrill sound of his phone ringing in his pocket pulled Zayn back to reality. He was _so_ fired. 

“Zayn, I need tea. If you bring me some, I won’t write you up as being late _again_.”

The call disconnected before Zayn had even had a chance to respond. Louis was a great boss and all, a bit of a diva at times, but he was a good boss. Zayn just didn’t have the patience to deal with queues and coffee-less customers standing in a line waiting for their caffeine fix. If he couldn’t have _his_ , then why should anyone have _theirs_?

With a grunt, Zayn got onto the bus, figuring it would be easier to go into a coffee shop after the bus ride rather than trying to balance the cardboard cups on a swaying bus. Considering his luck so far that morning, it was a wise choice.

The bus jolted to a halt at Zayn’s stop and the doors opened with a hiss. He stepped out and put a foot straight into a massive puddle. There went his new Vans. Zayn clenched his jaw and headed off in the direction of the closest coffee shop, not even bothering to pull his jacket over his head, he was already soaked to the bone – more rain wasn’t going to hurt him now.

The door to the coffee shop chimed way too cheerily for Zayn’s liking as he walked inside. There was a wet floor sign to his left and a massive puddle in front of him from previous customers that had already tracked water through. Zayn side-stepped the mess and joined the thankfully short queue. He scanned the display boards, trying to find the legally strongest coffee on the lists that he could buy.

Come to think of it, he should buy two. One for the walk and one for the second he stepped into the office building because if that wasn’t a migraine building behind his eyes, then Zayn had no idea what it was. Coffee could fix it. Coffee could fix all of his ailments, if Zayn tried hard enough. Well, that and a packet of cigarettes. He was supposed to be quitting, though. His mum had been nagging him for months and had sent him countless pamphlets on ‘How to Quit’. Zayn was considering it, just to get her to shut up about the matter. 

“Excuse me? You’re next, sir.”

Zayn looked up, blinking. 

Holy hell, there was an actual Adonis talking to him. There was literally no other way to describe him. With his perfectly shaped jaw, gorgeous cheekbones and fuck, even his eyebrows were to die for. Zayn was in love. It had to be love. Never in his life had he ever been so instantly turned on by another person before. Usually Zayn was the one who had people falling all over _him_ , not the other way around. That didn’t mean that Zayn couldn’t appreciate other people, of course, it was just not a _thing_ that he actively sought out.

The Adonis was staring at him, though, a thoroughly confused look on his face and Zayn opened his mouth to place his order but what came out instead was, “Fuck me.”

“ _Excuse me_?” the Adonis Barista said, blinking, clearly shocked. 

A noise came from the back of Zayn’s throat the he had absolutely _no_ control over. He gaped at himself and ran a hand over his face, embarrassed. 

“Would you like to try that again?” Adonis Barista (he deserved capitals, definitely) suggested and Zayn nodded twice, flicking his gaze to the boards again.

“Uh,” he started dumbly. “One large Yorkshire tea, milk, no sugar and one large of the absolute strongest coffees you can give me, please.”

Adonis Barista nodded and picked up two take away cups. “Name?” he asked, glancing back over at Zayn.

Zayn licked his lips. “Zayn,” he said. “Um, it’s Z-a-y-n, just, you know, in case.”

Adonis Barista flashed Zayn a smile and Zayn felt his jeans tighten considerably. What the fuck was wrong with him? 

Zayn paid for the drinks and then stepped aside before he could embarrass himself even further. 

It was the longest day in the world and it wasn’t even nine o’clock yet. His life was officially over.

Zayn people watched while he was waiting for his drinks, studiously ignoring the fact that he could see Adonis Barista out the corner of his eye, his black polo shirt straining across his biceps in the most sexual way that Zayn had ever had the pleasure of seeing. Someone out there hated Zayn, that was the only explanation. Why else would they make Zayn look the absolute worst he’s ever looked and place him in front of this absolute godly creature?

“Zayn?”

His head snapped up and he caught Adonis Barista’s gaze. He had the most gorgeously warm brown eyes that Zayn had ever seen. “Yeah?” he asked, stepping closer.

“Your order is ready,” Adonis Barista said.

Oh. That’s right. He had ordered drinks. So he wouldn’t be fired for being late. Shit, he still had to work the entire day.

“You okay?” Adonis Barista asked.

Zayn nodded. “Yeah, of course,” he replied, taking the cardboard tray with the two drinks on it. 

“Have a good day,” Adonis Barista said, the sincerity in his voice clear as day. Zayn almost tripped over air at the sound of it. He was definitely in love. That was a new thing for him but if he got to hear Adonis Barista’s voice, he didn’t care. He could definitely be in love with a guy like that.

“Thanks,” Zayn said, righting himself. “You too.”

Adonis Barista flashed him a brilliant smile and Zayn walked straight into the door behind him, smacking his face on the glass panel. 

There were at least half a dozen people staring at him and Zayn wanted the ground to open up and swallow him whole. 

“Are you alright?”

Great. Adonis Barista had definitely seen that spectacular bout of idiocy and was now at Zayn’s side, his big, warm hand cupping Zayn’s shoulder. His touch was as caring as his voice. 

“I’m good,” Zayn replied. “I’m good.” It didn’t hurt to repeat it.

“Okay,” Adonis Barista said, sounding utterly uncertain.

Zayn tried to give him a smile but he was certain it came out as more of a grimace and he opened the door, stepping out into the rain, leaving Adonis Barista behind in the menace of a coffee shop that was clearly out to get him.

Zayn made it to the office without further incident. He placed Louis’ tea on his desk and Louis flashed him a big smile before taking a long pull. Zayn flopped down into the chair across from Louis’ desk and picked up his own cup. 

He glanced down at the cup, noticing words that were clearly longer than ‘Zayn’ scrawled across the side of it.

There was a phone number along with _give me a call and we can talk more about the me fucking you part – Liam._

Today was the _best day ever_.

~*~

_Make a move, Malik._

Zayn stared at Liam’s phone number that he’d put into his phone. He had triple checked that it was right, then had Louis do the same. Louis, of course, had ribbed him _endlessly_ that day after he had got into work. 

He had no idea that one person could make him feel like he was. He was usually the suave, mysterious and completely confident one when it came to asking someone for a hook up. He’d done it plenty of times in pubs and clubs, how was this any different?

He purposefully ignored the voice that sounded _suspiciously_ like Louis sing-song voice in his head that it was _love_. Zayn wasn’t in love; he had barely said two words to the Adonis Barista.

 _Liam_. His name was Liam. God, it was a beautiful name. So perfect for him, too. Zayn _really_ needed to get out more.

He put his phone face down on his kitchen table and left the room. He couldn’t do this. Absolutely not. Liam was too intimidating. With his perfect smile, his gorgeous, semi-floppy hair. (Zayn thought he’d look good with a bit of gel, maybe style it into a short quiff. Not that he had spent a lot of time thinking about Liam’s hair. Of course not. That would be weird.) Liam had this gorgeous birthmark on his neck that Zayn just wanted to close his lips over and lap at it with his tongue just to see what noises Liam would make. 

That wasn’t weird, right? Of course not.

Zayn stood in the doorway to his kitchen and glared at his phone. Clearly it was the source of all evil. There was no other explanation for it. His phone was the downfall of humanity as he knew it. It needed to be destroyed.

He crossed the room and the moment his hand touched the side to pick it up, it started to ring. Zayn dropped the phone on the floor with a yelp and stepped backwards, smacking straight into the pantry cupboard behind him. Damn fucking small kitchen and its smallness.

The ringing persisted. That’s right, he had a call. Zayn scooped up his phone and answered it, bringing it to his ear, only to be assaulted with Louis’ voice telling him that in no uncertain terms that he was staying home tonight. They were going to go out, have a good time and Zayn was going to _call_ Liam. 

Louis could go get fucked. There was no way in hell that Zayn was calling Liam. None at all. Fat chance, slim to none, nada, zilch. And all of those other comparisons. 

Half an hour later, Zayn was in the shower, getting ready to go out, Louis sitting in his living room, a smug as hell look on his face.

Zayn really needed new friends. 

When he came back out of the shower, Louis was lounging on Zayn’s bed, flicking through a magazine. There was an outfit lying on the bed already and Zayn scowled at it.

“I’m _not_ wearing that!” Zayn exclaimed.

“Yes, you are,” Louis said, nonplussed, not even bothering to look up from his magazine. “Or I’ll fire you.” 

Zayn bit back a growl and dressed in the clothes Louis had laid out for him. He _definitely_ needed new friends.

“C’mon, don’t you want to look good for your Adonis Barista?” Louis asked, tossing the magazine aside. It landed on the floor with a soft thump. 

“I told you, I’m not calling him,” Zayn said as he shimmied into his jeans. Fuck, these were tight. Had Louis raided Harry’s closet or something? Because Zayn was sure that he did not own jeans _this_ tight.

“I know you did, love,” Louis said, stretching his arms above his head. “That’s why I did it for you.”

Zayn froze. Louis flicked him a look that was pure smugness, his eyes crinkling a little in a smile, looking _very_ much like the cat that got the cream. That little fucker.

“You…?”

Louis nodded, swinging his legs off the bed to stand up. “He’s meeting us in twenty minutes, so hop to it.”

“Louis. I’m going to fucking _kill_ you,” Zayn eventually got out. “I didn’t _want_ to call him!”

“Zayn,” Louis said monotonously, crossing the room to where Zayn was standing with his jeans half way down his thighs and his shirt completely unbuttoned. Why he was wearing a button up shirt was beyond him. Louis had the weirdest taste in clothes sometimes. Louis grabbed Zayn’s trousers and muttered ‘suck it in’ before yanking them up Zayn’s legs. He really was going to kill Louis and he was going to spend the rest of his life in prison. And he’ll end up being someone’s bitch and that just isn’t what he had in mind of his life. He couldn’t be someone else’s bitch. Life wasn’t meant to work out like this. “I spent the _entire_ day listening to you talk about your _Adonis Barista_. And _now_ you don’t want to call him? Fuck that, mate. You need to get laid. Heck, I’ve only known you for a few weeks and I can tell that already.”

Zayn whined in protest. “I don’t… It’s not. Shut up.”

Louis smirked at him. “He works with Harry, you know.”

Zayn’s eyebrows shot up. “Wait, what?”

Louis nodded, zipping up Zayn’s fly before reaching for the buttons on his shirt. “Yeah, he works with Harry. When I was talking to him tonight, he mentioned that he had a Liam working with him, who was, apparently _very_ good looking. So, unless there’s another _Adonis Barista_ that goes by the name of Liam, chances are, he’s your guy.”

Zayn froze again. Shit. Was this good news or was this bad? Harry was a lovable lad, that was for certain, but what was his opinion on Liam? Zayn was already head over heels in love with Liam, what if Harry didn’t like him? What if Liam didn’t like Harry? That was impossible. Everyone loved Harry. He was like a puppy and if you didn’t like puppies, you had no soul. Zayn loved puppies. Zayn loved Liam. 

What was his point again?

“So,” Louis continued like he didn’t know Zayn was having a mental breakdown. “Go brush your teeth and spray some of that Armani cologne I know you have and meet me downstairs in five minutes.”

Zayn nodded. Right, he could do this. 

“And don’t forget to put on shoes!”

Zayn looked down at his bare feet. Shoes, yes. They were important.

Before he could even properly think about what he was doing, Zayn was shoving his feet into some socks and then his shoes before going into his bathroom to brush his teeth. Clearly Louis has some kind of master manipulation powers because Zayn had already said he didn’t want to contact Liam and make a fool of himself.

He made it downstairs after dashing back into his flat to spray some of cologne that he forgot and met Louis outside of the building. Louis beamed at him and looped his arm through gap between Zayn’s and forced him to walk along the street with him. Zayn wasn’t really paying attention to what Louis was saying, he talked too much as it was. He just wanted to concentrate on not throwing up or losing his nerve. He was going to be meeting Liam. In a casual setting. Where he wasn’t covered in rain, slush and mud. He could do this.

He couldn’t do this.

Zayn tugged on Louis’ arm but Louis wasn’t having any of it.

“Suck it up, Malik,” Louis said, all but pushing Zayn through the doors of the pub. 

The pub wasn’t overly crowded, thankfully. There were a few tables of people already drinking and having a laugh. Right. He could do this. He could totally do this. _One foot in front of the other, c’mon, Zayn, you’ve been walking on your own two feet for more than twenty years, you can do this_ , his mind chided him. 

Louis stopped at the bar and ordered them drinks. Yes, if Zayn was going to get through the night, he definitely was going to need drinks. Lots of drinks. Preferably an endless supply of drinks. Zayn had absolutely no plans in buying his own drinks tonight; Louis was footing the bill for it all. He’d need to tell Louis that plan at some point because it was his punishment for making Zayn come out.

Louis handed Zayn a drink and gave him a wink before walking towards the pool tables where Harry was clearly visible, his copious amounts of curly hair pulled back by what Zayn could only describe as a _flower crown_. He didn’t even want to know. 

“Oi, oi!” Louis called as they approached. 

Harry’s face lit up as Louis approached and Louis all but jumped into Harry’s waiting arms, kissing him senseless. Seriously. Hadn’t they _just_ seen each other a couple of hours ago? It was sickening.

Zayn wanted that.

“Zayn, mate,” Niall, a friend of Louis’ said in greeting, pulling Zayn into a hug. “Good to see you again!”

“You too,” Zayn returned. 

So Liam wasn’t there yet. That was good. It gave Zayn time to prepare himself. Gave him time to breathe, to think –

“Hi! Sorry I’m late!”

Fuck. That was not enough time. 

Zayn’s palms were sweating and he’s sure he looked dreadful from the walk. Not like Louis was facing him to tell Zayn otherwise, he was too busy sucking Harry’s face off. Stupid in love idiots.

Niall, the most beautifully amazing, wonderful and thoughtful friend grabbed Liam in a one armed hug and greeted him with a cheerful, “Hello, mate, I’m Niall!” before letting go.

Zayn saw Liam’s gaze flick to Louis and Harry who were getting decidedly not family friendly if the way Harry’s hands were groping Louis’ arse were go to by.

“Are they always like that?” Liam asked, nodding his head towards the pair.

“Worse,” Niall and Zayn replied in unison.

Liam nodded. “Alright, then,” he said. “Zayn. It’s lovely to see you again. Dry this time, of course.”

Zayn’s face was a beetroot, he was sure of it. “Y-yeah, I, um, yeah.”

This was not going good. Louis was supposed to be his wingman. He was a shit wingman and a lousy friend.

“Oi, you two, you’re not in a porno, we don’t want to see you getting it on!” Niall called, poking Louis’ arse with the end of his pool cue.

Louis batted the cue away and pulled back with a smirk. “That’s a lie,” he said. “ _Everyone_ wants to see us getting it on.”

“If you say, mate,” Niall chuckled. “Stop being a rude prick, we have a guest with us.”

Louis’ gaze flicked to Liam and his face broke out into what Zayn could only describe as a really fucking creepy smile. Shit. This was not good. Not good at all. Zayn needed out. Abort, abort, abort. This plan was not going well at all. Shit.

“So, you’re Liam then, hey?”

Liam nodded and wow, Zayn was right, he did look good with a quiff. He wanted to run his hands through it and tug while Liam fucked him. 

Wow. That wasn’t an appropriate thought when Liam was standing only a foot away from him. He needed to stop hanging around such horny bastards like Louis.

“Yeah, I’m Liam.”

The pair shook hands and Louis pulled Liam in for a hug.

It’s official. Zayn was screwed and not even in the good way.

Louis caught Zayn’s gaze from behind Liam’s back and he winked. He fucking winked. Zayn should just leave. He really should. Oh, Liam’s saying words. Zayn should pay attention again.

“…get drinks, if you want?”

Zayn nodded. He wasn’t sure what he was agreeing to but he heard the word ‘drink’ and it was an automatic yes from him. He needed _all_ of the alcohol if he was going to survive the night. 

Harry was grabbing Louis’ arse again.

Scratch that. He was going to need the entire world’s supply of alcohol if he was going to survive the night. 

Liam left and Zayn felt his heart break just a little. It did, however, give him a _fantastic_ view of Liam’s arse. Which was perfect. Like the rest of him. Zayn wanted to touch it.

“Fuck, Zaynie,” Louis said, leaning heavily on Zayn’s shoulder. “He has an arse to die for!”

“Oi!” Harry protested from where he was leaning over the pool table, cue lined up to take a shot.

“Yours is better, baby,” Louis replied automatically. “It’s why I married it.”

Harry grinned and sunk the ball in the pocket. Zayn was impressed. He hadn’t really played pool before. Maybe Liam knew how. And maybe he could teach Zayn how to play. Lean over his back, his breath hot on Zayn’s neck as he whispered instructions, setting the cue in his grip firmly, guiding him through sinking the ball into the pocket.

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Liam returned with a tray of drinks and Louis automatically grabbed two, handing a particularly pretty one with a pineapple wedge on the side to Harry. That actually looked pretty delicious, Zayn thought. He wondered if he could get a sip off Harry before he finished it.

Niall came out of nowhere, grabbing his pint of beer before taking his shot at the table, lining himself up perfectly.

“Here you go,” Liam said, pressing a glass into Zayn’s hands. Their fingers brushed and Zayn swore that his heart skipped at least three beats. 

“Thanks,” Zayn said dumbly.

Liam smiled. 

Zayn wasn’t going to last the night if he kept doing that.

“So, how do you know Harry and Niall?” Liam asked, sitting down on a bar stool.

How Liam made _sitting down_ look sexy, Zayn would never know. He sat down opposite him, almost sliding off altogether. He quickly righted himself and holy shit, that was Liam’s hand on his thigh. _Breathe, Malik, breathe_.

“Uhh.” Zayn took a long pull of his drink. He was going to need all the liquid courage he could get. “I work with Louis.”

Liam’s gaze flicked over to Louis, who had his arms wrapped around Harry form behind while he was waiting for his shot at the table. God, they made a disgustingly cute couple. Zayn wasn’t jealous. Not at all. Not even a little bit. Okay, he was jealous. Sue him.

“They’re cute,” Liam commented. 

“Don’t let Louis hear you say that,” Zayn said. Wow, did he just manage a full sentence? Achievement! 

Liam turned back to Zayn, beaming. “Harry’s great to work with. I only started a few weeks ago and he’s really talented, you know?”

Zayn nodded. He’d heard all about Harry’s shop from Louis. Louis absolutely never shut up about Harry. If he wasn’t talking business, he was talking about Harry. Zayn was sure that he knew more about Louis and Harry’s relationship than what was probably healthy. 

Harry owned the coffee shop that Liam and Niall worked at. He had started in a bakery, according to Louis and when the owners retired, Harry had bought the business. He expanded it to be a coffee house as well. It worked well, from what Zayn knew. People loved Harry’s pastries and the coffee was to die for, if the drink that Zayn had tried that morning was anything to go by. It was no wonder Louis was so proud of him.

“So, what do you do then?” Liam asked and oh, Liam was looking at him with such an earnest look on his face. Zayn wasn’t going to swoon, he wasn’t. Okay, he swooned a little bit.

“I’m pretty much Louis’ bitch,” Zayn responded before he could properly think out a proper answer. “He’s the designer; I bring him tea, fabric swatches and am his human pin cushion whenever he wants someone to try on his creations.”

“Sounds… Well, that sounds a little painful, actually,” Liam said with a laugh.

Liam’s laugh was like warm honey. It made Zayn want to make him laugh again. He could do that, he was funny. Right? Of course he was.

“It’s alright,” Zayn replied. Because they were actually having a proper conversation. He needed to stop checking out and _focus_ on Liam. Whose knee was now pressed against his own. Oh, god. He wasn’t going to squeal like a fifteen year old discovering their mum had tickets to that concert they wanted to go to. No, he wasn’t going to do that at all.

Maybe he would internally.

He needed to keep it cool. He couldn’t possibly let Liam know what he was thinking about – he’d run in the other direction faster than a speeding bullet if he knew. 

“Is design something you’d like to get into? You know, once you stop being Louis’ bitch?”

Zayn almost snorted into his drink. “Yeah, I mean, I… I like to draw stuff. And, like, I’m good at being Louis’ model, apparently.”

“I can see why,” Liam said. “It’s the cheekbones.”

Was that a compliment? Did Liam just compliment him? Zayn was going to fall off his stool in a moment if Liam said anything else remotely nice to him.

“Thanks,” Zayn said, keeping his gaze on his drink, downing the rest.

“Actually, it’s the arse,” Louis said. Where the hell did he come from? He wasn’t there a moment ago. Zayn glared at Louis. Boss or not, he didn’t want Louis ruining this. “More drinks, lads?” Okay, he loved Louis. Drinks were good.

“Yeah,” Zayn said, passing his empty glass to Louis, who gave him a pointed look, which Zayn knew he was going to pay for at work tomorrow, and probably for the next few weeks.

“He’s not wrong.”

_Huh?_

“Huh?” Zayn asked, looking back at Liam.

“Louis,” Liam said like it explained everything. “He’s not wrong. You do have a great arse.”

The Adonis Barista just complimented his arse. Zayn was having trouble breathing.

“You alright, mate?” Liam asked, voice full of concern. He reached out to steady Zayn, a hand on his arm, squeezing at his shoulder a little.

“Yeah,” Zayn nodded. “Yeah, I’m fine. That last drink went to my head a little.”

Liam smiled. “Maybe take it slow, then? We don’t want you falling off the chair and hurting yourself.”

“Yeah,” Zayn repeated dumbly. 

“Do you want to dance?” Liam asked. 

Zayn looked up, panicked. 

“Or not, we don’t have to, I’m sorry I asked.”

“It’s… I… Shit.” Zayn wanted to pull his shirt over his face and hide from Liam forever. “I don’t dance.”

“Oh.” Crap. Liam sounded like a wounded puppy. He needed to fix that.

“I mean, I can try?”

“Are you asking me or telling me?” 

Getting courage from some unknown source, Zayn reached over, took Liam’s hand and led him to the dance floor. Liam’s grin was worth it. He just hoped that Liam still wanted to talk to him after he stepped on his feet a few hundred times.

“Like this,” Liam said, dropping his hands to Zayn’s waist. Zayn’s skin felt like it was on fire where Liam’s hands were resting. Liam was a good dancer. He guided Zayn through every move, bringing them closer together. He was… Wow, was that Liam’s hard on pressing against his thigh?

Zayn chanced a look up at Liam, who was absolutely definitely leaning in to him. Kissing was something Zayn could do. He was good at kissing. He had been kissing – yep, Liam was definitely kissing him.

Liam’s hands tightened on his waist and Zayn pressed closer. There was no way he was going to stop doing this now, that was for sure. He wanted to kiss Liam for the rest of his life. It was amazing. Liam was amazing. Life was perfect.

“Get it, Zayn!”

Fucking Louis and his bad timing. He was going to kill Louis all over again. Plan his death down to the detail.

Zayn flipped him the bird and kept kissing Liam because it was the only thing that made sense. Liam’s lips were soft and tasted awesome. He moaned, unable to stop the noise if he tried. 

“Do you want to get out of here?” Liam asked, his lips sliding across Zayn’s cheek, his tongue flicking out to lick at Zayn’s ear lobe. Zayn shuddered, fingers tightening on Liam’s waist.

“Yeah,” Zayn replied. “Whatever you want, Adonis Barista.”

Shit.

No, no, no, no, no. Did he just?

“Did you just call me Adonis Barista?” Liam asked. 

Zayn hung his head. “Yes,” he whispered in the hopes that Liam wouldn’t hear it. 

Liam laughed and kissed Zayn full on the lips again. “C’mon, cheekbones.”

Zayn followed Liam like a puppy; ignoring Louis’ jeers behind him but shooting Harry and Niall both a thumbs up. He liked Harry and Niall. They were nice. They were cool and they weren’t Louis. Harry should’ve married Niall, Zayn thought. Then he wouldn’t have to deal with Louis’ pestering questions he’s sure he’ll get in the morning when he gets to work. 

Right now, though, Zayn was going to focus on Liam’s hand holding his own as they left the pub and climbed into the back of a cab together, trying to decide who’s flat to go to in between heated kisses.

~*~

Zayn woke up early. Too early.

Liam was getting out of bed and Zayn whined. This was not part of the plan. He didn’t want Liam to leave his bed ever. Liam belonged in his bed always. Zayn was sure it was a law somewhere. If it wasn’t, then it should definitely be one.

“Where’re you going?” Zayn mumbled, rubbing at his eyes. 

“I’ve got the early shift at Harry’s shop,” Liam replied in a whisper.

Zayn could listen to him talk forever. He really could. Wait. Liam was leaving. That was not good. Zayn sat up and watched Liam’s perfect arse disappear back into his underwear. This was _definitely_ not good. Liam should always be naked. Naked and in Zayn’s bed. That should be the new law. 

“Can’t you stay?” Zayn found himself asking.

Liam grinned over his shoulder at Zayn as he pulled on his shirt from last night. Good bye, perfect abs that Zayn could write sonnets about. Zayn didn’t even get to touch them again. That was not fair at all.

“I can’t,” Liam said.

Zayn pouted. He didn’t care that he was in his twenties; he was going to fucking pout because the situation called for it.

Liam knelt on the bed and dipped his head to kiss Zayn again. That was better. Kissing is a thing they should always do. That and sex. Sex with Liam was great. He could do that forever. 

“Can I see you after work?” Liam asked.

“Yes,” Zayn replied immediately. This was a good step forwards. Absolutely a good step.

Liam smiled and Zayn felt it all the way to his toes. “I was thinking maybe we could actually go on a date?”

Zayn nodded, his mind swimming with the imagery of sitting across from Liam in a restaurant and eating, trading bites of their dinners and sharing dessert. “Yes. Good… love… idea.”

Liam laughed and kissed Zayn once more. “See you later, cheekbones.”

Zayn licked his lips and lifted his hand to wave at Liam. “Later, Adonis Barista.”

Liam’s happy laughter filled the otherwise silent flat in the best way possible.

~*~

Zayn was early for once.

After Liam had left, Zayn had showered, chosen an outfit for work, actually had breakfast for once and sent off a couple of cute texts for Liam to get when he was on his break. 

This whole being in love thing was pretty good.

He walked to work. The sun was shining. There wasn’t a puddle in sight. People moved around him without crashing into him. He found a five pound note on the ground and tucked it into his pocket. 

The bus was on time for once and he actually got a seat on it, next to a sweet little old lady who was knitting. He complimented her work and she smiled at him. It was a great morning.

Zayn all but skipped into Harry’s coffee shop, the bell above the door sounding like music instead of nails on a chalkboard. There wasn’t a queue when Zayn walked in, the people in the shop already having been served. 

Harry was behind the counter, handing a waiting customer their order. He had flour smudged on his cheek and there was a little in his hair. The flower crown was back and he utterly beamed at Zayn when Zayn approached the counter.

“I’ll just get Liam for you,” he said.

Liam appeared a few moments later, looking even better than he had last night, if that was possible. It was a hard choice because Liam was wearing _clothes_ here and Zayn would prefer him naked but he would take what he could get. 

“Hi,” Liam said with a smile.

Oh, there was icing on Liam’s lips. Without thinking, Zayn leaned over the counter and kissed it right off Liam’s lips. It was deliciously sweet tasting and their kiss earned them a whoop and a round of applause from Harry. Liam was blushing when they pulled away and Zayn couldn’t help but grin at him.

“Hi,” he said.

“Here,” Harry interrupted. “Tell my husband he’s a genius and that he should give you a promotion, Zayn.”

Zayn glanced to Harry, who had slid a cardboard tray with two take away drinks on it. He nodded. “I will,” he agreed. 

“Have a good day, cheekbones,” Liam said, swiping his thumb across Zayn’s cheekbones before pressing another lingering kiss into his lips.

“You too, Adonis Barista.”

**Author's Note:**

> You can also find me [here](http://star55.tumblr.com) ♥


End file.
